


The Last Will and Testament of Edelgard von Hresvelg

by ACompleteNonEntity



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Canon, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:35:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26758843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ACompleteNonEntity/pseuds/ACompleteNonEntity
Summary: The Immaculate One falls, and Edelgard is left to rebuild and fight on by herself- or so she thought.Takes place post-Crimson Flower.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Edelgard von Hresvelg, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Edelgard von Hresvelg
Comments: 40
Kudos: 74





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all, this is my first FE fanfic as well as being my first stab at writing a more overarching plot rather than the slice of life stuff I’m more used to doing. Comments and constructive crit are very much appreciated! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it. =)

“To the fires of eternity with you, _El_.”

Dimitri spat out the last word as if it were a curse as he struggled to keep his head up. Behind the curtain of mud-streaked hair plastered to his cheeks, his face was a rictus of sheer malevolence, twisting his features beyond recognition. Though his eyes were the blue of glacial ice, the hatred in them burned far more intensely than any flame would.

And just like that, Edelgard remembers.

Sunny afternoons, sweet buns, a whirlwind of sensations as she danced and danced, the blurry face of a meek and clumsy boy- disjointed memories that had plagued her throughout her younger years all raced through her mind and coalesced into one single, harsh truth.

_You’ve got to cut a path to a future you wish for, no matter what._

Bile rises in her throat. Aymr clicks and twitches in her hand, thirsty for blood.

Without any further thought, she brings her axe down. Dimitri falls to his side, his blond hair splayed about his head like a halo on the muddy ground.

“Carry him to the encampment and treat his wounds. Bind him and keep him heavily sedated at all times,” she orders Hubert.

Her retainer raises an eyebrow and opens his mouth as if to protest, but thinks better of it. He gives a curt nod and calls over a soldier to help him lift the body.

Edelgard turns away from the scene and walks toward the entrance of the ruined fortress. From there, she observes the Church’s retreat, their forces making their way in the direction of Fhirdiad.

The battle had been a miserable and wet slog, with both sides suffering major losses. She had never expected the Kingdom to resort to using Crest stones on their own as a last ditch effort- that mistake had been costly. Bernadetta had perished from getting too close to a transformed soldier, followed by Caspar who had tried to save her. Several familiar faces from her Academy days had dotted those among the enemy’s and Edelgard had struck all of them down in retaliation, save for one.

The adrenaline that had carried her throughout most of the day was wearing off and now all she felt was a deep, deep exhaustion, both in body and soul. She leans her head against the wall and closes her eyes, allowing herself to rest if only for a moment.

“How are you doing?” a soft voice calls out from behind.

Edelgard jerks back upright reflexively but relaxes once realization sets in. The presence of her teacher was always a welcome one. Edelgard turns around to give her a wan smile.

“Tired.”

“As we all are,” Byleth agrees. “For what it’s worth, I think you made the right decision.”

“I hope so too.” She looks out in the distance again, watching the sun rise over the horizon.

Hubert might think her wits temporarily addled by sentiment, but Edelgard knows that she has always been a good improviser. For most of her life she had been dependent on that ability, and the fact that she was still standing was a testament to her skill.

Perhaps there was a future where Dimitri would be more of use to her alive than dead. Perhaps there wasn’t. But now that she knew what she knew, the enemy of her enemy could be considered an ally, if not a friend. All that was required was turning him towards the rightful target of his ire. A titanic effort to be sure, but one that wasn’t impossible and could be a great boon to her cause.

And of course, Edelgard told herself, if things didn’t work out, she could always kill him later.

* * *

The anguished screams of the living and dying fill the night air, drifting towards her like the ash that blanketed the streets before them.

_So, this is how the Archbishop treats your country and your people when offered a bloodless path. Was it worth it, Dimitri?_

Edelgard grimaces as she watches the fires steadily spread from the higher to the lower levels of the once proud city of Fhirdiad. She could make out little specks in the distance running to and fro, lit by the inferno that would no doubt consume their lives.

She grips Aymr’s handle tightly, her resolve even more hardened at the sight before her. As far as Edelgard was concerned, Rhea and Thales were of the same ilk and Fodlan would be far better off without the both of them meddling in human affairs. The first part of her plan was almost at an end, and she would not, could not falter here.

An otherworldly roar sounds in distance as an eerie green light pierces the haze of smoke hovering above the city.

Edelgard’s lips curl into a smirk. How fitting. She may be a monster in the eyes of many, including herself, but it would take one to end one.

“Black Eagle Strike Force,” she calls out. “What stands before you is the last obstacle on this long road we have traveled for five years. We all know what it took for us to get here, and I urge you to not only fight for those who have fallen, but fight for the new world that will be birthed on this day. Do whatever it takes to prevail but do not be too careless with your lives. I want you all with me at the end to celebrate all that we have achieved together. Victory _will_ be ours. Now, move out!”

With a roar, they charge forward.

* * *

She watches as Rhea, no, _Seiros_ breathes her last, green blood gurgling out of her mouth and streaming out of the ruin that was once her head. It is a pitiful sound, one that suits its owner quite well, in Edelgard’s opinion.

A sudden movement out of the corner of her eye catches her attention. Byleth had collapsed at around the same time as the white dragon’s death. Horror courses through Edelgard’s veins and she sprints to her side, catching her.

This couldn’t be happening, not at the hour of their triumph. This was supposed to be a joyous occasion, a lifting of a great weight from their shoulders and Fódlan’s as well. There was so much the two of them had yet to do, so many things she wanted to share with her mentor, so many things left unsaid-

Cradling Byleth in her arms, Edelgard rocks back and forth, willing her to wake up and tell her this was all some sick joke. She presses an ear to the woman’s chest, desperate to hear anything as her tears soaked the dark fabric of her shirt. As the seconds turn into minutes, a strangled sob escapes from her throat. She is dimly aware of people staring at her but Edelgard doesn’t care about maintaining the facade anymore, not when her whole world was rupturing.

Despite the very public renunciation of her faith, Edelgard finds herself praying to someone, anyone, that she might see her teacher alive once more. She was that weak, sniveling child in the palace cells all over again. Powerless to save her loved ones, crying out for someone to help her. Could she be more pathetic?

Time seems to pass. Or did it stand still? She could not tell anymore.

Byleth does not wake up.

Her body lies in her arms, cold and unmoving. The last casualty of this war.

Edelgard throws her head back and begins to laugh. Perhaps the divine punishment that the Church constantly blathered about did indeed exist. Seiros had departed from this world taking one last person with her, the one who had mattered the most. As if Edelgard hadn’t had enough things taken from her in one lifetime.

She laughs and laughs and laughs, tears streaming down her face, trying to keep the terror and despair rising within her at bay.

The real fight was about to begin and this time, she would walk it alone.


	2. The Cough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edelgard is faced with the reality of her situation, and as usual, begins to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy again, this chapter contains my attempt at worldbuilding, which is one of my favorite aspects of any sort of story (when other people do it, heh.) The first few chapters will be more Edelgard focused but Dimitri will start to appear once things get going. I’m honestly debating how shippy I want this fic to be because I tend to like stories where romance isn’t exactly the main focus but is instead a nice side dish you appreciate in smaller portions. But there will be shippy stuff! This is fanfiction after all.
> 
> I drew a sketch for this chapter- Edelgard is always fun to draw. 
> 
> Also, did anyone else find the ending of CF confusing? CF was the second to last path that I played so I knew most of the lore before playing it, but even I was scratching my head at what the hell happened to Byleth.

Edelgard coughs.

The white of the porcelain sink is splattered with red and she coughs again, this time with more force. A blood clot dislodges itself from her throat and sticks to the side of the sink. It is thick and viscous, with an ominous shade of burgundy at its middle.

Edelgard takes her cup and flushes the mess down the drain, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Raising her eyes to the mirror, she notices that the bags under her eyes are more pronounced than yesterday’s. She would need to put on more make-up than usual.

Straightening up, she lets out a sigh.

Today was off to a good start.

* * *

“And I present to you, Alphonse Wagner, our new Minister of Finance!”

Edelgard waves the man over to the podium and walks to the side of the stage to take a seat. Polite applause follows as the man in question takes the center stage, clears his throat, and begins his speech. She watches him with great interest.

Wagner is a short, reedy man with a rather shabby taste in clothing. One would not think much of him at first glance. However, his looks belied his high intellect, incorruptibility (an extremely rare trait among those who served in public office), and his talent for turning debt into surplus. The man was, in essence, the shining example of the type of public servant she wanted keeping the new Adrestian Empire humming along.

It had taken her close to a year and half after the fall of Fhirdiad to draft a new charter, confirm it unto law, and then implement the changes all around Fódlan. One such change was the introduction of the Imperial exams, which were open to all citizens save for those convicted of high crimes. Wagner had been a commoner employed as a treasurer for multiple townships in the Bergliez territory before he’d taken the exam and passed it with flying colors. Out of the ten or so possible candidates for the position, the independent commission the charter had set up had voted overwhelmingly for him. Edelgard could not help but feel a bit proud of the man as she watched him speak.

She also could not help scanning the crowd for Count Hevring, whom she had stripped of his title despite his help during the war. There had been too much power consolidated in that one man and one position, and thus she had split the duties of Minister of the Interior into five separate jobs. Edelgard knew he greatly resented her for that slight and she did not blame him for it. She also did not particularly care about his feelings, being that the Insurrection of the Seven was ever in the back of her mind. Still, it was a good idea to keep a vigilant eye on potential troublemakers.

“Your Majesty, after this engagement, there is a messenger from North Adrestia awaiting you at the palace.” Hubert whispers at her side. “He claims it is urgent.”

Edelgard groans quietly. Her day just couldn’t stop getting better.

* * *

The messenger is pacing nervously around the room when she arrives at her office. He jumps a few inches in the air when he finally notices her walking towards her desk.

“Ah! A-apologies Your Majesty. I did not see you.” He quickly bows twice in succession.

“It is quite alright, Godfrey. There is no need for such formalities. What do you have for me today?” Edelgard sits at her desk and folds her hands across the surface. _More bad news probably_ , the cynic in her surmises.

“H-here, I have a briefing from General Aegir.” Godfrey hands her a grey folder, marked with Ferdinand’s official seal.

Edelgard opens the folder, reading its contents. The first three-quarters of the report consisted of fairly routine subjects: inventory, troop movements, brief descriptions of skirmishes and the like. The last quarter had one particular paragraph that stood out and made her eyes widen in surprise.

_Wyvern Moon, Day 11: Men in plague masks and dark robes have been spotted near Fraldarius territory assisting the local rebellion there. A villager from Birchwell claims to have seen these men unloading heavy crates onto carts belonging to known rebel leader Aislyn Ramsey. There have been five mysterious disappearances around the area, the earliest being around a week ago._

Fury begins to rise from her gut. Just what was Thales up to? He had what he wanted already- the end of Seiros and her kind, not to mention access to the Emperor of the whole damn continent, even if said Emperor detested him with every fiber of her being. What was he hoping to gain by instigating a rebellion against the Empire? Surely he would know that word of his actions would reach her.

If only she could summon him and demand answers, but the harsh reality was that it had always worked the other way around. Oh how she despised being at his beck and call.

And how exactly did these North Adrestians come into contact with the Agarthans? What were they planning and how did that coincide with the Agarthans’ goals? Edelgard had to assume that they were being used; that was the only way Thales knew how to deal with humans.

Dimitri’s leering face flashes across her mind. _You may know how to kill and conquer a country, but do you know how to lead it? The people of Faerghus are a hardy bunch, and they will not kneel so easily to outsiders who have never lived in the harsh climate of the North. They will never accept you as their sovereign._

Edelgard closes her eyes and shakes her head in an attempt to clear that mental image. Now was not the time to get distracted. When it came to Thales and his machinations, she had to proceed very carefully or run the risk of Enbarr becoming the next Arianrhod.

She puts the folder on the pile of papers before her and thinks, tapping her fingers on the desk. In truth, over the last year and a half she had been so utterly consumed by the work involved in rebuilding the continent that she had neglected her plans to destroy the Agarthans. Her people had needed her then to set things right and she could not abandon them to fight a second war right after the first one. Especially if the enemy was a shadowy organization most people knew nothing about.

That wasn’t the only reason why she was hesitant about fighting the Agarthans though. Reconstruction had also provided a welcome distraction from the one subject Edelgard wanted to avoid thinking about at all costs. Another war meant casualties, and to suffer that again would have ripped her previous wounds open and poured saltwater on them. Even if Edelgard was no stranger to pain, she was not sure about how much more she could bear at that time.

Perhaps it was time to remedy her lack of action.

Edelgard thanks Godfrey for the message and dismisses him, shutting the door quickly after his footsteps had faded away.

She walks over to the gramophone (a recent invention hailing from Derdriu) at the corner of the room and plays a record. The wistful solemnness of a lone cello soon fills the air and the music calms her down a notch. Dancing in tune to the melody, she picks up various objects from around the room- her favorite writing quill, a sheet of vellum, an antique inkwell, and a well-worn tome on successful military campaigns conducted in the last century.

The Emperor, having gathered all she needed, returns to her desk and begins to write.

* * *

The day is almost at an end and the dying light of the sun pours through the great glass windows of her private hall. The roses that lined the building outside had turned a most beautiful red in the sunset. Edelgard walks at a leisurely pace, admiring the flowers and absentmindedly listening to Hubert going over the events on tomorrow’s agenda.

Before she knows it, she is overtaken by a coughing fit for the second time that day. Edelgard quickly covers her mouth with her hand, cursing her body for its ill timing.

_Damn it, not now. I won’t hear the end of this from Hubert. He’s worse than a mother hen sometimes._

“Lady Edelgard, are you ill? I’ll go fetch a physician,” Hubert exclaims, right on time.

“N-n-no, j-just need w-w-water-”

She doubles over as another cough wracks her body. It’s an ugly and harsh sound, made by someone who is clearly not in good health. The metallic tang in her mouth is almost overwhelming.

Hubert frowns. He moves to help her stand upright again.

“Do not attempt to lie your way out of this one, Your Majesty,” her retainer admonishes her. “Even a deaf person could tell that cough was serious. Forget everything I said earlier, you are to stay in bed and rest until your condition improves.”

“Yes, _Mother_ ,” she grumbles, making sure to hide her hand from him.

“If that is to be my new position, I will gladly take it,” he replies without pause.

Edelgard can’t help but snort at the idea of Hubert in a dress following her around and demanding that she eat her vegetables. If he ever decided to have children, they had her condolences.

“Ahh, Hubert, what would I do without you?” she sighs, not really expecting an answer.

“You’ve done enough, Lady Edelgard. Let yourself rest.”

“I’ll think about it.”

They arrive before her private quarters. Edelgard makes to enter her bedroom, but pauses when she reaches for the door handle.

“Actually... summon Hanneman to the palace tomorrow. I would like to talk to him. And if it makes you happier, I’ll talk to him from my bed.”

“Understood. It does, Your Majesty. Good night.” Hubert gives her a quick bow and glides away.

* * *

A knock at the door sounds. Edelgard puts down her book, a fascinating read on ancient magic rituals used in warfare.

“Hanneman has arrived, Your Majesty,” Hubert’s voice calls out.

“You may come in.”

Hanneman enters her bedroom, clutching his hat. He notices her on the bed and curtsies.

The Crest scholar seemed to have aged twenty years in the last seven that she’d known him. His hair was almost entirely white now and there was a weariness in the way he carried himself. War had taken a harsh toll on him.

“Please, sit. Would you like any tea or refreshments?”

“Just tea would be fine, Your Majesty.” Hanneman goes to sit on the lounge chair by the coffee table. Edelgard nods at Hubert and he departs, closing the door behind him.

“I apologize for the rather short notice and for the informal setting. Something has come up,” she starts.

“Ah I see. If you don’t mind me asking, what is it?”

“I’ll not bother you with the details, but it does make our schedule tighter. How is your progress going so far?”

“Rather smoothly. Lysithea has been a tremendous help. We have isolated the compound in the blood-”

“Before you get into that, I must ask you outright, how soon can you achieve extraction?”

The scholar blinks.

“I-I cannot say for sure. There are too many variables involved. It would be dangerous to rush these things, there could be many side effects that we are not aware of,” he stammers.

“I see. That is... disappointing to hear. Is there no way else to speed things up?”

“There-” Hanneman pauses.

“What is it?” A spark of hope ignites within her.

“I am hesitant to say this. I do not want to give you false hope, my dear. It would be irresponsible of me.”

“Even so, I would hear it, Hanneman. I am running out of time,” she commands, looking him directly in the eye.

Realization flashes across his face. Edelgard had told no one else about her... condition and she hopes this one exception isn’t a mistake. Perhaps it would serve as his motivation to work harder.

“I-I see.” Hanneman visibly gulps, adjusting his glasses. He then continues.

“The people that put that Crest in you did so through dark magic, so it stands that dark magic could be used to take it out. What I have been trying for the past year is to remove it using purely scientific methods, as it would be the safest and most humane way possible, but... as you can see, progress is slow. Last month, Lysithea discovered a scroll pertaining to blood magic in the Imperial archives. There were many... morally questionable procedures listed in it. However, there exist a few that could be adapted and refined to achieve extraction in a quicker manner, but I have extreme reservations about doing so. It would require... a heavy price.”

Edelgard closes her eyes. Memories of a damp, musty cell swirl behind her eyelids. She could still hear the screaming and pleading of her poor siblings, even if the sounds had been dulled by time. Would she have the fortitude to go through something like that again?

“Thank you for telling me,” Edelgard replies after a brief silence. “I will think on it. There is one other thing I would like to ask you about. By-”

She takes a moment to compose herself.

“Byleth and I both shared the Crest of Flames. Why is it that she lost her life when Seiros died, but I did not lose mine or the Crest of Flames?”

The scholar rubs his chin slowly. His face was alight with some of that familiar burning curiosity again.

“A most fascinating question. My hypothesis is that the Crest of Flames was tied to keeping Byleth alive. Haven’t you ever wondered why she was able to wield the Sword of the Creator without a Crest stone in the scabbard? My guess is that _she_ was the Crest stone. When Seiros died that must have affected it somehow. Perhaps she had something to with how Byleth came to be. As for your Crest, I am afraid that I do not know. You and Lysithea are truly one, er, two-of-a-kind and there are no precedents we can draw from to form any conclusions.”

Hanneman leans forward and clasps his hands together.

“With that said, I am sorry that I could not be of more help, my dear,” he laments. “You have my condolences. I am trying my best, I truly am. Your continued support means the world to me. If there are any major breakthroughs, you will be the first to hear of it. Until then, I pray that you will hold out.”

“Do not worry yourself about it. You are doing important work and some things cannot be rushed. It is not your fault,” she consoles him, despite the tightness in her throat.

The door opens again and they both turn to see Hubert arrive with the tea. He places the tray on the coffee table and wordlessly exits the room again.

Hanneman picks up a cup and blows at the hot liquid. There’s an awkward air between them now that they’ve finished discussing business.

“Your Majesty, if I may... could I ask you something about a sensitive topic?” he asks suddenly.

“You may, though depending on said topic, I can choose not to answer.”

“How is Dimitri?”

Edelgard tenses.

Ah, that was right. Hanneman had been the professor for the Blue Lions when she was still attending the Officer’s Academy. She wondered what he thought of her cutting down most of his former students.

“He is.. being well taken care of,” Edelgard responds stiffly.

“I am glad to hear that. I do wish things had turned out differently between you two,” he says in a soft voice.

“Me too,” she agrees. “Me too.”

* * *

Edelgard stands in front of the sink again. A wave of nausea overcomes her and she retches. Her mouth feels as dry as a desert and tastes like mud and blood mixed together.

If Hanneman was unable to find a way to remove her Crest in time, that left only one other option- going back to the source. What they could give, they could also take away.

The thought of having to ask _them_ for something again makes her want to vomit, and so she does. After cleaning herself up, she sinks to the bathroom floor in exhaustion.

Did she even need to be around anymore? Edelgard had accomplished most of the societal reforms she had set out to do. Gone was the antiquated class system that valued Crests above all else. Villagers and peasants everywhere were being raised out of poverty like they never had before. The Adrestian government was filled with people like Alphonse Wagner and able to check itself if one institution or person became too powerful. The Church, while not wholly dissolved, was heavily reigned in by the state. Military affairs were being handled by accomplished generals like Ferdinand von Aegir and Count Bergliez. Relations with Brigid and Dagda had never been better.

If she were to disappear the next day, the machine would still keep running. After she had finished with her reforms, she had diminished the power of her own position to prevent future power-hungry Emperors from changing the charter.

But it was that Thales, that thrice-accursed _Thales_. Even at this time he was trying to subvert her fledgling government and not even bothering to hide it.

Edelgard wanted nothing more than to rip his head from his spine and cast his body and his followers into the deepest crevices of the earth. It was what that scum deserved. To do that, she would need the full might of the Imperial army.

...Or did she?

Ideas begin to spring forth like a well within her. She had never explored this line of thinking before. Edelgard had a gut feeling the Agarthans would never expect this from her as well- and she could use that to her advantage. The element of surprise was a valuable asset and she would need every one she could get to fight an enemy that utilized such unconventional forms of warfare.

A grin begins to form on her face.

There was much to do. Her planning session from the day before had yielded some promising results. If she could merge this new set of ideas along with it, there could be less bloodshed than going the expected route. Oh how sweet and satisfying it would be- they would never see it coming. She fervently hoped her body would not give up on her before then.

But first things first.

It was time to start finding a worthy successor.


	3. Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edelgard proceeds with her plans.

Edelgard picks her head up from its resting place at her elbow, eyes bleary with sleep.

Files are strewn all over her desk and she tries to recall where exactly she’d left off before she’d passed out. Her mind had been working at a million leagues per second for the past week and all that work had finally caught up to her.

A piece of parchment juts out from the jumble of binders, folders, and notes on the right side of her desk. She pulls it out and smooths it down.

The search was going quite well. Edelgard had narrowed it down to less than eight candidates now, evaluating each person based on their character, experience, beliefs, leadership skills, political savvy, and adaptability. It was tedious work for sure, but the next Emperor had to be able to run the country, carry out her last wishes, and appear as unthreateningas possible to the Agarthans at the same time. It was a delicate balance to achieve and not many people had what it took.

There were a few people she was already gravitating towards.

Ferdinand was the most obvious and safest candidate. As the scion of House Aegir, he had more experience in administration than most people and had received the same education and training she went through. He was a war hero as well, popular with both the military and the common-folk. Their relationship was solid if not completely friendly- the one-sided competition that had once taken place between them had morphed into a mutual respect for each other (though she still considered herself superior in most aspects.) Picking him would assuage the fears of those worried about the stability of the Empire after her departure.

There was Amara Bellenger, the current governor of the County of Varley. Born to a family of shoe cobblers, she had been another success story to come out of the Imperial exams. She was a rising star among the political class, extremely charismatic, and a pioneer of a new system of education for her constituents. Elevating her to Emperor would show her people that anything was possible under this new system and encourage future generations to strive for the top.

Then there was Alistair Ulster. He hailed from the Archdukedom of Itha in what used to be the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus and also happened to be a distant relation of the Blaiddyds. A cold but pragmatic man, he had been well respected in the region before the war and was instrumental in spearheading the Empire’s absorption of Faerghus’s territories. Having a North Adrestian as Emperor could help quell the rebellions and prove to everyone that the government did not just favor those who lived in the south.

In a flight of fancy, she had also briefly considered Hubert for the role, only to immediately shoot down the idea. He was the one person she trusted to carry out her wishes to the fullest, but he would also have detested the job, unable to work from the shadows that he so loved. Pride as a Vestra would also keep him from assuming the role- to take the throne from a Hresvelg would seem morally repugnant to him. In addition, his people skills were, for lack of a better word, non-existent.

Ah, Hubert. She had yet to tell him of her plans. Maybe he could help her decide.

* * *

“Have you lost your mind?”

“Watch your tone, Hubert. You are still talking to your Emperor.”

Hubert crosses his arms and glares at her. Any other person would have shrank back under the look on his face, but Edelgard was used to his rather intimidating appearance and mannerisms. She’d noticed that over the last year he had become more willing to voice his discontent with some of her decisions. Ferdinand must be rubbing off on him.

“We have spent almost the last decade getting to where we are and now you wish to throw all our hard work away? This is not something you can simply change your mind on, Lady Edelgard. You may deeply regret this someday. Things may seem stable right now, apart from the rebellions up north, but there is no guarantee for that when you leave office.”

“You know as well as I that it was never about being in power, Hubert. I have done all I had set out to do in this position and now I find stepping down more advantageous. And I will be most diligent in making sure my successor is up to the task.”

“What about the Agarthans?”

“That is precisely why I am doing what I am doing.”

“I do not understand you, Lady Edelgard. Pray tell, how are you going to fight them without an army?”

“I don’t exactly _need_ an army. Not the Imperial Army at least. If I were to use them to attack the Agarthans, Enbarr would be levelled within a day. Remember, they still have their trump card.”

“Hmph. You have a point,” Hubert concedes. “So how are you planning to go about this?”

Edelgard smirks and slams a thick binder of papers onto the desk in front of him. “I wrote this all yesterday,” she remarks airily, feeling a bit smug.

Hubert picks up the binder and begins to leaf through the pages.

“A... guerrilla force?”

“Yes! Made up of unaffiliated fighters, mercenaries, spies, assassins and so forth,” she explains. “I have decided to call it-” she pauses for dramatic effect “-the Fódlan Anti-Agarthan Continental Defense Force.”

“That is... a terrible name, Lady Edelgard. No offense intended.”

“Bah, who cares what you think about it,” she waves her hand dismissively at him. “Keep reading.”

“I have a question though. Why does this require you stepping down? You could just as easily conduct its activities in secret while still being Emperor.”

“I could, but if it was ever traced back to the Empire, it would still result in Enbarr’s demise. Staying on as the Emperor would also mean that the Agarthans will always have an eye trained on me because I know for a fact that they do not trust me. Were I a simple civilian with no obvious access to military power instead, they would have less reason to suspect me of trying to destroy them. It would also allow me to fully devote myself to this cause.”

“I suppose that makes sense. Let me ask you a more pressing question actually- how are you to fund this? If I may remind you, sellswords do not work for free and you have no way of knowing how long this fight will be. The costs could be astronomical.”

“That- that is the part I am most worried about,” Edelgard admits. “I have the fortune that I inherited from my house and it will last us for a few years, but I intend to defeat them as quickly as possible.”

”Your intentions are immaterial in light of what may actually come to pass, Your Majesty. We must be practical about this. The Imperial Army has a much higher budget-”

“I told you, I am not going to be using them. It is far too risky. And I have a contingency plan in case the war does drag out longer than expected, though it may take months or even years for it to go fully in effect.”

”Oh? What is it?”

Edelgard walks around the desk to help him flip to the page showing the blueprints. “I am going to introduce this project to the Council later this week to get it approved. It will be my last official act as Emperor. I have made it so that its function is not immediately apparent, in case there are any Agarthans slithering around.”

“Hmm. Interesting. And if it does not work?”

”You will see to it that it works. By any means necessary. I have made you the one in charge of it.”

”Pardon? What is my role in all of this?”

“You are to remain in your position as Minister of the Imperial Household for the foreseeable future. I still need a contact in Enbarr after all. And someone to help guide the new Emperor.”

Hubert stares at her in horror.

“What- that’s- but my place is by your side! It has been that way for the Vestras for more than a thousand years!” Hubert protests. Edelgard could detect a hint of desperation in his voice, which made saying the next part even harder.

“And you will be by my side in spirit, Hubert. I truly appreciate everything you’ve done. All I ask is that you have a little faith in me. Now, no more arguing, please. My mind is set.”

Her retainer huffs in displeasure.

“This is unlike you. The Edelgard that I know would have used swift and overwhelming force, not these... reckless and unproven tactics,” he grouches.

Edelgard smiles ruefully.

”People change, Hubert,” she tells him. “They must in order to survive.”

* * *

She tosses and turns in her sleep, trapped in a nightmare.

_Stop it, she begs, stop stop stop stop stop! Why are you doing this to me? I didn’t do anything, please, stop!_

__

_The masked man above her stays silent as he sticks a syringe filled with a strange purple liquid into her left elbow._

__

_Pain explodes all around her and she sees stars in her eyes. If it wasn’t for the straps binding her chest and legs, she would have fallen to the ground from all the shaking in her body._

__

_Her uncle watches her from the corner of the room. He tells the masked man to double the dose._

__

_No, please, she wails. Help me, Father, Mother, Goddess, someone..!_

__

_The masked man refills the syringe and sticks it into her right elbow this time._

__

_She screams in agony, but it is cut short when her body suddenly enters a trance-like state. Purple tendrils of smoke coil and snake around her body and her long brown hair starts floating in the air._

__

_Her uncle’s eyes light up at the sight. She has never seen him this happy. Quickly, he urges the masked man, before we lose another one._

__

_The masked man turns to the tray by his side and picks up a vial filled with blood. He forces her mouth open and pours the blood into her mouth. It tastes like nothing she’s tasted before._

__

_She sees a faint glow above her, and then-_

__

_Flames._

Edelgard wakes with a shout.

Gasping, she leans on her side and rubs her throat. Why was it that she always woke up at the end of a nightmare and not at its beginning or middle parts? Was her body and mind so keen on torturing her?

The window was open and she could see that the full moon was perched high up in the sky. It was still very, very early. Or late depending on how one looked at it. In any case, she had to preoccupy herself for a few hours. There was no going back to sleep now.

Normally Edelgard would head to her garden and bask in the cool night air to calm her nerves, but tonight she decided to pay a visit to the one person who she knew would be awake at this hour. It was probably the only thing they had in common these days.

She might as well get it over with. The sooner, the better.

Edelgard changes out of her sleepwear and dresses herself in a simple blouse and a floor-length skirt. She grabs a lantern from the side table and exits her room.

The vast halls of the Imperial palace are empty save for her. She walks past portraits of past Hresvelg emperors, the majority of them old wizened men who had passed on their thrones when they died. She wondered what they would think of her, the last living Hresvelg, giving her title away to a noble or commoner. Rolling in their graves, most likely.

She stops at her own portrait. The Edelgard in the painting was dressed in full battle regalia, clutching a sword and a book in her hands. Her face stared back at her with an aloof but knowing look. How strong this Edelgard looked, how perfect was her countenance, her posture, her everything. Nothing in the portrait betrayed any sign of weakness or doubt.

Grief washes over her, unbidden. The end of her, the end of an era.

* * *

She knocks twice on the iron grate.

“Who’s there? Speak your name,” the guard calls out.

“It is I,” Edelgard replies.

“Your Majesty! Of course, give us a moment.” There is shuffling sound and the grate slides open.

“How is he?” Edelgard asks as she steps into the guardhouse.

“Awake as usual.” The guard turns away from the gate mechanism and salutes her.

“Good, I wish to speak to him. I do not want to be disturbed, is that clear?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll start priming then.” The guard motions to another guard standing at the far end of the room. The other guard takes out a keyring and begins to unlock the multiple padlocks on the heavy metal door.

Soon, the door creaks open. Edelgard enters the next room and shuts the reinforced door behind her. Turning around, she mentally steels herself for the task ahead. These visits usually left her in a different mood by the end, and not for the better.

”It’s been awhile, Dimitri,” she says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! I’m hoping this fic isn’t too boring so far, I find that a bigger sin that it being straight up bad. Bad can be interesting at least.
> 
> I like to think that Edelgard is the Leslie Knope of Fódlan. Also my boi Dimitri is finally showing up ayyy
> 
> Did two sketches for this chapter! I finished some pieces for a zine so now I feel less guilty about doing them. I had fun designing Edelgard’s outfit.


	4. Dimitri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edelgard confronts Dimitri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning- Mentions of suicide attempts.

Dimitri ignores her.

He sits on the floor at the northeast corner of the well-lit room. Fetters made from an alloy of umbral steel and mythril bind his wrists and ankles, connecting him to a metal plate on the ground made from the same material. Magic thrums through the plate and into the restraints, keeping him in place.

A little ball of white fur darts from his side and runs up to greet her. He wags his tail and pants eagerly.

“Hello there,” she smiles and kneels down to pet Jasper on the head. If she recalled correctly, that was the name that the guards had heard Dimitri call him.

She steals a glance at the dog’s companion. He does not even raise his head to look at her. As expected.

In the first few weeks after the fall of Fhirdiad, Edelgard had shared the same sentiment. The sight of him sent rage and grief hurtling throughout her innards like a flail. Why was it that _he_ was alive and not Byleth? It was like her life had been a never-ending series of cruel japes. Anything good that ever happened to her had to always result in something being taken away.

It did not help things that at that time he would constantly hurl invectives at her, trying to goad her into killing him. Twice did she come close to ending his life. Hubert had offered to do it for her on one of those occasions so as not to dirty her hands, but that had been enough to snap her out of her bloodlust. She would not give Dimitri the satisfaction of confirming his worst beliefs about her, even in death.

He had tried starving himself after failing to anger her enough, but then she had the guards force feed him. Then he had tried to hang himself with his bedsheets, and so she had those taken away. The guards had spoken of him pleading with his father, someone named Glenn, his former retainer Dedue, and her own mother in the night. There was something deeply broken with his mind.

She had subsequently banned from the room anything that could be used to harm himself or others, even innocuous things like a wooden spoon. At Tailtean, she had seen firsthand what the Crest of Blaiddyd was capable of. The scar that ran from her ribcage to her left hip still ached on rainy days.

In the last few weeks, he had taken to sitting at the corner staring at the far wall. She had tried giving him amenities such as books and puzzles to pass the time, but he had either ignored those or torn them apart. Jasper had been the only one he had responded well to. The dog had been given to him for companionship in the long hours of the night, all the while serving as a test to see if some humanity still remained within Dimitri.

There were many times when she asked herself why she bothered.

Maybe it was because he was her first love and a dear, forgotten friend that she thought him worth saving. Another part of her thought it would be the best way to spite Thales. Two broken people, their lives ravaged by the Agarthan’s casual disregard for human life, joining forces and ending him would be the most poetic revenge indeed. It would make for a good song or tale, but that was what it was- just a fantasy.

No more of that. Her patience was at an end. If he refused today, she would end him on the spot.

She gives Jasper one last rub on his head and lets him go. The dog runs over to its bed and lies down, looking at her.

Edelgard stands up and walks over to the corner.

“I have something to ask of you. And I will not leave until you answer me,” she says.

Dimitri shifts slightly. The hum of magic flowing through the manacles is deafening in this silence between them. He likes making her wait, but she will get her answers from him even if it means staying here for hours.

“And if I refuse?” he croaks after a few minutes, his voice hoarse from disuse.

“Then you would be of no use to me and I would have little reason to keep you alive.”

He lets out a loud, harsh bark of a laugh. “That is where you are mistaken. I have been dead for the past seven years. A true death would not change a thing.”

“What if I told you that you may have something to live for?”

Dimitri stares into the distance as if he hadn’t heard her.

“Do you recall the last time we spoke? When I told you of Those Who Slither in the Dark?”

“Pft,” he scoffs. “What an utterly atrocious name. Who came up with _that_?”

Edelgard frowns. Why was it that people kept telling her that her names were terrible? They were perfectly good names with a nice, bold flair to them. Then again, this was Dimitri.

“They also call themselves the Agarthans,” she continues. “I am creating a special force to combat them and I want you to join me in doing so. I believe you have sufficient enough reason for fighting them as they are the ones responsible for the Tragedy of Duscur. Mainly their leader Thales, or, as you may know him by his human form, Volkhard von Arundel.”

“Not satisfied yet with murdering your own mother and stepfather, are you? And now you turn your sights on your own uncle.”

“I have told you before, I had nothing to do with their deaths. My real uncle is long dead. Thales assumed his body years ago, the same way Solon did for Tomas and Kronya did for Monica von Ochs back at Garreg Mach, so it is something that you have witnessed for yourself. The mage Cornelia Arnim likely suffered the same fate. We have went through this before,” she states impassively.

“You are just as complicit as they are, if not more. I would rather kill you.”

“You could do that. But then you would be depriving yourself of the one person who knows the most about them and the only one who is actually working to stop them.”

“I don’t care. Killing you would be enough.”

“I don’t believe that at all, coming from you. My spies tell me that you were actively looking into the Tragedy before you were captured. You already had your suspicions about Volkhard.”

“And why should I believe you? For all I know, you are making them into some kind of convenient scapegoat so that you can escape responsibility for your own crimes.” Dimitri finally turns towards her, a glower set on his face.

Edelgard falls silent. _You know nothing about me_ , she wants to shout at him. _You know nothing about how the wool has been pulled over your eyes._

“I have something to show you,” she says instead.

Edelgard begins to unbutton her blouse.

His eyes widen momentarily before narrowing in disgust. “Of course. You would,” Dimitri sneers.

This earns a sardonic chuckle from her. “Do you really think so little of me? I am not _that_ desperate.” She finishes undoing the buttons on her shirt, but does not pull back the cloth just yet.

“You love to flaunt your power in front of those who have little choice but to partake in your follies. That is what it has always been about, not pleasure,” he snarls.

Edelgard sighs. This man was getting tiresome with his preternatural ability of jumping to the worst possible conclusions. If she were to place a mountain of evidence in front of him absolving her of crimes she did not commit, he would probably somehow find a way to vault over it, ignore it, and accuse her of those very same crimes. This visit was looking more futile by the second.

Even so, the way his eyes had briefly lingered over the exposed strip of skin in the middle of her blouse had not escaped her notice. That was not too surprising. He was a man after all. She supposed that being a prisoner did severely diminish one’s capacity to have a love life and that even Dimitri of all people was not immune to its effects. The thought gives her mirth for some reason.

She walks closer to him and he tenses, looking away. Edelgard cocks her head and looks at him, thinking. Was he being... bashful? Prudish? Was this a vestige of the oh-so-perfect, gentlemanly prince he had once been? Or was he simply uncomfortable with this situation? It was quite interesting to get a reaction out of him that wasn’t vitriolic hate, rage, or indifference.

There was admittedly a part of her that wanted to see him squirm a little more but she was here for other reasons today.

“Look at me,” she commands. Edelgard pulls back her blouse. Most of her torso was now exposed, save for the strip of cloth that bound her breasts.

He does not obey so she places her thumb on one cheek and her fingers on the other and turns his head towards her. Dimitri tries to resist but her grip on him is too strong.

“ _This_ -” she gestures at her torso,“-is what they did to me when I left Faerghus,” Edelgard hisses. “Do you think it possible that I had the resources and ingenuity to mastermind an assassination thousands of leagues away while I was being subjected to this? I was _thirteen_ , Dimitri, use your damn brain and _think_ for once.”

She steps back and releases her hold on him. Dimitri sucks in his breath. He’s finally seen the scars.

“You know as well that my hair was once a different color. All the experimentation they conducted on me made my hair turn white and greatly shortened my lifespan as a result. Which leads me to this.”

She focuses on that small, foreign point of power within herself, urging it to come out. Her blood curdles and boils for a moment, before surging with a newfound power. The Crest of Flames flashes above the palm of her hand for a few seconds, then disappears.

Dimitri jolts backward, his mouth agape, chains clattering around him with the sudden movement. For once, the expression on his face is that of pure shock.

“This was all done to me by them. I show this all to you because _I_ am living proof of what they are capable of, that _I_ was physically incapacitated at the time of the Tragedy, and that _they_ are an abomination that must be wiped off the face of the earth,” Edelgard declares, her voice rising with each fact that she listed.

Dimitri shakes his head and shudders, as if to banish something unpleasant from his mind.

It’s a lot to take in, so she gives him a moment. In truth, Edelgard was feeling a little shaky herself. She had shown her scars to only two other people before. Revealing that much about her made it feel as if her secrets were all but public knowledge now.

She watches Dimitri process all this information in front of her. Vindicating herself had felt good, but what came next was what truly mattered.

“Suppose what you said is true. I will allow that,” Dimitri begins.

Edelgard holds her breath. Could this be a breakthrough?

A dark cloud manifests itself over his countenance, dashing her hopes. “For what possible reason would you think I would want to help _you_? These- these- Agarthans may have taken my family from me, but you have taken everything else. My friends, my people, my country, my crown, my way of life. You are fucking _delusional_ if you think that I would want anything to do with you.”

And there it was. He had hit upon the crux of the problem.

What other reason to live could she give to a man who so desperately wanted to die?

She racks her brain for an answer. Over the years, negotiations with countless politicians and diplomats had taught her that there was usually one thing people could not compromise on. One core aspect of them they were unwilling to let go, be it money, power, fame, sex, the list went on. All one had to do was use that knowledge and exploit it to their advantage.

Her eyes scan his face and his body for any sign of a clue. There was nothing except for the hate that radiated from his very being.

_The hate..._

Ah, of course.

The answer had been in her the whole time. How could she have not seen it earlier?

Edelgard closes her eyes, breathing in and out. She would see this through to the end, like she always had. Opening her eyes again and fixing the full brunt of her steely gaze on the man opposite her, she speaks.

“Let me make a deal with you then. If we are both alive by the end of this fight and Thales and his ilk have been purged from this world, my life will be forfeit to you. You will have your vengeance on those truly responsible for the Tragedy of Duscur, and you will have your vengeance on me.”

The words take awhile to sink in.

Dimitri slowly raises his head and looks at her. Those blue eyes of his, strikingly beautiful despite being cloudy and weary from lack of sleep, meet her own.

They stare at each other this way for minutes, neither of them willing to be the first to turn away.

A numbness settles over her. This was an offer to exchange their roles- one would have reason to live, the other would have reason to die- and Edelgard did not have anything left within her to feel any way about it. She could very well live out the rest of her days in peace, partaking of the fruits of her labor, watching a reformed nation come into its own. Most people would expect her to do just that.

But for her father, her mother, her siblings, and Byleth. They were all waiting for her in the great beyond, and she was so, so tired of being alone.

He was the first one to speak up.

“You’re lying. I don’t believe you. You would never give yourself up willingly,” Dimitri accuses, his icy glare never wavering from her face.

Edelgard had been expecting this. She takes her right hand, puts it to her mouth, and coughs forcefully into it for a few seconds. Once she is done she shows her hand, now stained with blood and mucus, to his surprised face.

“I am not long for this world, so what does it matter the way I die? A body was never meant to house two Crests and mine has already started to betray me. The only thing that I live for now is to see Thales impaled on the end of my axe. Today you can choose to help me or you can die, knowing that your revenge is incomplete. I do not care either way. So what is your answer?”

Dimitri bows his head, seemingly lost in thought.

She waits.

A low rumble of a laugh starts to emanate from his chest, like the sound of thunder before a storm. It is a thoroughly unsettling sound. When Dimitri looks up again, there is a manic gleam in his eyes that she does not like.

“We have a deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is now officially the longest fic I’ve written. Woooo go me.
> 
> Yea... this was not a happy chapter. These are two people with a plane’s worth of baggage and in need of a metric fuckton of therapy after all.
> 
> This chapter assumes that Dimitri eavesdropped on the conversation between the Flame Emperor and Thales in CF like he did in AM, which is supported in his dialogue with Edelgard at the Tailtean plains when he accuses her of being the one who caused the Tragedy of Duscur.
> 
> Added some color to this chapter’s drawing. I modeled the good boi in it after my own dog haha


	5. Goodbyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edelgard says her goodbyes.

“ _Hellooo_ , earth to _Edie_...”

Dorothea sits across the table from her, looking at her impatiently.

Edelgard snaps back to attention. The outdoor patio she was currently sitting in had offered a lovely view of the canals across the street, distracting her from the present. She’d been caught in a daydream about the days of her youth, when she had walked alongside her mother near those very same canals.

“Are you listening to me?”

“Yes, yes, do continue.” Edelgard picks up her fork again and divides her cake into neat sections.

Today was a beautiful and balmy day in Enbarr and it just so happened to be one of the very rare days when her schedule was entirely free. Edelgard had figured that in the coming weeks, she would never have another opportunity like this again and so she’d set out to visit the few friends of hers that still lived in the capital.

She’d dressed herself in a headscarf and sunglasses, wanting to have a quiet outing without the fuss of being recognized. Fortunately the opera house was not too crowded today. Most of the people in her proximity were plainclothes guards from her security detail.

“As I was saying, guess who I saw the other day at our closing performance?”

“Who? You know I have no idea,” Edelgard says in between taking bites of her cake. It was a little too sweet for her liking.

“Hanneman! He had a bouquet of roses with him. I think he’s courting Manuela,” Dorothea whispers conspiratorially.

“Those two? I thought they couldn’t stand one another.”

“Who knows, maybe behind all that bickering there was something else going on. As they say, there’s a fine line between love and hate,” Dorothea remarks, stirring her wine glass with her straw. “Manuela has been drinking less during the day, so that’s good. Less chance of her breaking down in tears during rehearsal.”

“You have to admit though, the fact that she can be drunk and still manage to turn out such moving performances- that’s quite impressive. If she were sober most of the time, imagine the things she could do.”

“I know, right? I’ve told her that a couple of times actually. Told her she might actually find someone to settle down with if she did, but then she just took a swig from her flask and ranted about how drinking was far more dependable at giving her pleasure than men.” Dorothea rolls her eyes.

“Uh huh...”

“So, met anyone new lately? Ooh, I’ve heard the new Minister of Education is quite the handsome one. If you’re not interested in him, I’d love it if you could introduce us. I’d bet he could teach me a thing or two,” her friend winks.

Edelgard groans. “Can we please not talk about men? Lately my life seems to be filled with the kind that loves to question my every decision. It’s so very tiring.”

“Fine, fine. Met any lovely ladies then?”

“You know I don’t have time for that sort of thing.”

“Oh silly me, I’d forgotten that you’re already married. To your work.”

“Forgive me for trying to run the nation instead of looking for a spouse, Dorothea. There are more important things in life than finding love,” Edelgard snaps, clenching her napkin. “I don’t just have me to think about.”

The easy smile on Dorothea’s face fades away in an instant. The songstress bites her lip, looking at the ground.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have teased you. That was thoughtless of me,” she apologizes.

“No, no, it’s not you. I shouldn’t have lost my temper. I’m sorry too,” Edelgard insists. She rubs the bridge of her nose, suddenly feeling drained.

“You’re still not over her, are you?” Dorothea asks quietly.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be,” Edelgard answers without thinking.

She freezes, realizing her slip-up. Immediately she turns away, chastising herself for being so careless.

Dorothea reaches across the table and lays her hand over hers. Edelgard resists the urge to withdraw her hand.

“Edie... if there’s anything wrong, you know you can tell me, alright? I worry for you sometimes. You’ve gotten thinner since the last time I saw you. Working’s fine and all, but you have to take a break eventually. It can’t be your life.”

Edelgard can’t bring herself to look at her friend just yet.

“I know you like to hold onto your secrets and I understand that, but if you ever need somebody to talk to, you can reach out to me. It won’t make you weak to open up a bit, in fact, it takes a lot of strength to do so.”

“I’m fine, I’m just... a little touchy today,” she replies. “Thank you for your concern though. It means a lot.”

Dorothea leans back and removes her hand. Her lips are pursed. Edelgard can tell she’s a little disappointed.

“I should get going soon, I have other places I need to be today. I hope you find the person you’re looking for and that... they’ll make you happy to be alive every day,” Edelgard says as a way to try and soften the blow.

Dorothea smiles warmly. “Thank you, Edie. I hope you do too.”

She gets out of her chair and walks over to Edelgard, embracing her in an all-encompassing hug. “I’m glad you visited me today. You should do it more often,” Dorothea whispers against her neck.

Edelgard pats her on the back, unsure of what to say.

They speak their goodbyes to each other and soon Edelgard watches Dorothea’s figure recede into the distance. The small form of her friend expertly navigates the maze of tables and chairs scattered across the outdoor patio, making its way for the entrance of the opera house. There, it turns one last time in her direction. Edelgard waves, a mournful smile on her face.

Today would probably be the last time she saw Dorothea ever again.

* * *

The carriage pulls up to the courtyard and shudders to a stop at the foot of the building. Edelgard hears the coachman jump down from his seat and walk to the side of the carriage. Soon, the door opens from the outside. Clasping the door frame to steady herself, she puts a foot on the carriage step and exits the coach.

The Enbarr Institute of Crest Technology looms over her, casting her in its shadow. It’s an austere three-story building made of concrete and stone with little to show for in decor. What it housed though, was far more interesting.

Edelgard pushes her way through the revolving door, entering the lobby. She makes for the receptionist’s desk at the far end of the room.

“Hello there, Clara. Is Hanneman in today?”she asks the receptionist, a plump, middle-aged woman with glasses and a tall updo.

“Ah, Your Majesty!” Clara beams. “What a wonderful surprise! I’m afraid Professor Hanneman is out at the moment.”

“Is Lysithea or Linhardt here today?”

“They should both be here, I believe. You know where to find them.”

“Wonderful, please tell Hanneman that I stopped by. I’d like to speak with him later.”

“Will do.”

Edelgard takes the stairs to the third floor and walks down the right wing of the Institute. Her destination was at the end of hall- a wooden door painted in green with metal accents. Once she arrives there, she knocks twice on the door.

“Who is it?’ A voice yells from the inside.

“Your benefactor,” she replies back.

There’s a soft _thump_ and a muttered curse, then a series of hurried footsteps that grows closer and closer.

The door opens and Lysithea’s face pokes out. She looks as sprightly as ever, a fact that gnaws at Edelgard’s gut.

“Oh hey, Edelgard. Haven’t seen you in awhile. What brings you here?”

“Good afternoon, I was hoping to talk to you and Linhardt.”

Lysithea laughs. “Good luck with Linhardt. You just arrived during the middle of his designated nap time. Come in.”

Edelgard steps into the room and looks around.

Hanneman’s workshop was a mess. It was quite the contrast to the carefully kept room he’d inhabited at Garreg Mach. Numerous beakers and flasks populated the counters that bordered the large, dimly lit room. There were papers strewn all over the floor and across every conceivable surface. Books on top of books were stacked from the ground up, with some of these stacks even taller than her. Strange devices lay propped against the wall, begging to be tripped over.

In the southeast corner, Linhardt lies slumped over a counter, snoring contentedly.

Lysithea gives her a look. “Your tax money, hard at work.”

She walks over to Linhardt and shakes his shoulders with vigor. He doesn’t wake up. Lysithea then takes a step back, ignites a tiny flame from her index finger, and pokes him on the shoulder with it.

Linhardt yowls in surprise and jerks up from his slumber. He looks around the room groggily until he sees Edelgard.

“Oh hi. It’s you.” He puts his head down again on the counter.

Lysithea smacks him on the side of the head. “Pay her some respect, she’s the Emperor, lazybones.”

With his face still planted on the counter, Linhardt utters a muffled “Hi, Edelgard.”

“You are so- _rrgh_!” Lysithea growls in frustration. She throws her hands up in the air.

As if on cue, Linhardt starts to snore again.

“Do you see this?” Lysithea gestures at Linhardt. “He’s wasting your money like this all the time. Hanneman is way too nice to him so that leaves _me_ to do all the hard work of getting him to be productive.”

Edelgard sighs. “Leave him be for now, I’ll talk to him later about it. Can I talk to you in the hallway? I feel like every step I take here might cause an accident.”

“Oh right. We should probably clean this place up soon,” Lysithea sheepishly admits.

The two of them exit the room and Edelgard closes the door behind her.

“So, how are things going for you three?” she enquires.

“Good, I guess. There’s still a lot of work to do on extraction but I am starting to think it it’ll be a question of when, not if we get there. Hanneman has also been working on a side project,” Lysithea replies.

“That’s good to hear. What project is he working on?”

“He calls it his magical tools. Basically they’re objects with special functions you can use without needing a Crest. They only require some knowledge of Reason magic. He’s made one that allows you to see very far into the distance, for instance. Then there’s the one that helps conduct magic ten times faster than arcane crystals. ”

“Huh, that’s actually very interesting,” Edelgard remarks. “Do you think this line of work can be applied to weapons?” She makes a mental note to talk to Hanneman about this later.

“Probably,” Lysithea shrugs. “They’ll never be Hero’s Relics though. Why do you ask?”

“Well...” Edelgard stalls, trying to think of a way to phrase her answer.

“Well?”

Edelgard taps her fingers on the wall next to her. She should just get to the point. Lysithea would prefer it that way anyways. “The reason that I ask about the weapons is because I am currently putting together a fighting force dedicated to taking down the masked mages that we are both so familiar with. I wouldn’t ask you this if I didn’t think there was a chance of you accepting, so forgive me if that is a foolish assumption, but would you be interested-“

“Okay.”

Edelgard blinks. “What?”

“I said okay. I accept.”

“Just like that? Don’t you want to think about this a bit more? What about your research, I thought-”

“I can take some of it on the road with me. A lot of what I’m doing right now involves theory rather than practical application anyways,” Lysithea interrupts her again. “We have all the basics down so far, all that’s left is refining the process of isolating the blood then removing it. Hanneman already has all my notes on the most important parts. He’s also got his assistants and as much as it pains me to admit this, Linhardt has been a big help to us too.”

The look on her face hardens. “Look, I know how dangerous they are. It’s not going to be easy. I might even die. But the Institute will do just fine without me. I can’t say the same for you though.”

Edelgard chuckles at her brazen confidence. The Agarthans were truly in for some trouble then. Lysithea was one of the, if not _the_ most formidable user of magic that she knew, even more so than Hubert. There had been many an occasion when she had felt relieved that the woman before her had defected to her side during the war. Even Jeritza had wanted to avoid fighting her, citing the reason as her being “too cheap” and “unfair.” To have her on the force would be a most welcome development.

Lysithea looks to the side and twirls a lock of hair, a far away look in her eyes.

“I want to make them pay for what they did to my parents too. I can’t imagine how many lives they’ve ruined before they got to me. It- it wouldn’t be fair to the other children in my House if I just ignored their existence and carried on with my life. Besides, it’s been awhile since I’ve had good target practice. Linhardt runs too fast, surprisingly.”

“I understand completely. I feel the same,” Edelgard agrees softly.

Lysithea makes a half-smile. “It’s probably terrible for me to say this, but it’s oddly comforting knowing that there’s someone who’s suffered the same way you have.”

“Not at all. It’s only natural to feel that way.”

They fall silent, taking a moment to reflect on their shared sentiments. Out of everyone else in the world, only the two of them had this sort of kinship.

_Bang!_

A deafening crash blares from within Hanneman’s workshop, dispelling the peaceful quiet around them. Lysithea sighs in annoyance.

“Well, if you have no objections for now, I’ll send you your instructions shortly. Welcome to the team,” Edelgard declares. She smiles her first true smile of the day.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Lysithea smirks.

* * *

Edelgard leans her head against the carriage door, taking in the scenery that passed by through the window.

What a difference a year made. The Black Eagle Strike Force had all but scattered to the winds.

Back then, when they had all been together, it had felt good to _belong_ to something. Forged in the chaos of battle, tempered with victories and losses, and finished with a shared sense of duty and purpose, a unique bond had sprung up between her and her former classmates. She longed for that feeling again.

Now that the war was over, life went on and people were already drifting apart, walking their own paths towards their own goals.

Ferdinand was in North Adrestia, trying to tamp down the rebellion there. She had a feeling he was not satisfied with just his military career and was planning a foray back into politics. Soon, he might just have that.

Petra had returned to her home country, serving as the main conduit for diplomatic relations with Brigid. She was one of the most formidable fighters in their group, her speed and agility unmatched by anyone else that she knew. Edelgard had considered extending her an invitation to her fighting force but had decided against it. Brigid would need its princess far more than than she did.

Caspar had been laid to rest in the Bergliez estate. She doubted Count Bergliez would ever let her visit his son’s grave. Caspar’s father still served as a general in her military of course, but most of his power had been stripped away in her reforms. The title of Count was mostly just a name now and like his archenemy Count Hevring, he was extremely bitter about it. Edelgard also suspected that he blamed her for Caspar’s death, which was honestly not too far off from the truth. His death still haunted her in her nightmares.

And Bernadetta, sweet Bernadetta. Edelgard had been thoroughly incensed when Dorothea had told her of the abuse that the poor girl had suffered at the hands of her father. It had explained so many things about her. When Count Varley had requested her body to be returned to her home, she had refused. There were few things worse in life than a parental figure mistreating the children in their charge, and Edelgard would be damned if she let that man near his daughter again. Bernadetta had been buried in Enbarr, far from the people who saw her as just a means to amass more wealth.

The landscape outside her window begins to turn a verdant green. Edelgard could feel a palpable shift in the tread of the wheels as the road turned from asphalt to gravel. The carriage begins to slow down until it comes to a complete stop. She had arrived at her last destination.

* * *

Edelgard places the pitcher plant on the grave, making sure to stack other flowers around it so that a stray gust would not blow it down.

She steps back to observe her handiwork. Slightly lopsided. It would have to do.

Closing her eyes, she whispers a few words of farewell, hoping Bernadetta could hear them from a place where she would no longer have things to be afraid of.

Wind rustles through the small grove of trees that surrounded the small cemetery. The scent of rain is in the air, mixed in with the other earthy aromas that arose from the ground.

She opens her eyes again and walks a few paces to the right, where another grave lies in wait for her.

Edelgard tilts her head back and looks at the sky. The bouquet of red carnations and lilies she is holding trembles in the cold afternoon air. What was in front of her was still difficult to behold.

_If I had taken your place instead, would everything have turned out better?_

“Dear niece, it has been some time since we’ve talked. How are you faring?” a deep, lilting voice calls out from behind her.

Edelgard spins around, dread spreading through her veins like ice.

Volkhard von Arundel steps out from behind the gate to the cemetery. Or rather, the fell creature that had murdered him and taken his shape.

How she hated that he always caught her by surprise. There was some quality about him that always made her thirteen year old self rear her unwanted head again.

Edelgard forces her face to become like the Flame Emperor’s mask- rigid and devoid of all emotion.She hopes that nothing terrible had befallen her guards, though one never knew with Thales. 

“I am doing well,” she answers. _Like you give a damn_ , she wanted to add.

“A few little birds here and there have been twittering about the palace recently. They tell me that you plan to step down from your position.”

“That is true,” Edelgard confirms. “I plan to do so within the month.”

“And for what reason would you do that for?”

“I have set out and done all I wanted to accomplish as Emperor. Politics as a whole exhausts me and I wish to take a well-deserved rest from it. I’m thinking of traveling and seeing the world without the burden of a crown.” It was technically the truth and Edelgard hopes that it is enough to lend her answer some authenticity.

Thales strolls over to a headstone and sits down at its apex. He places his feet on the grave marker in front of it.

“Is that so?”

“Is there any reason to make you think otherwise?” She watches him closely. If he knew about her stepping down, there was a chance he might know of her other plan...

“Not particularly, no. I am just curious, that is all.” Thales nonchalantly examines the nail on his index finger. “However...”

Edelgard braces herself.

“There is the matter of Aymr. I would like to have it returned to us. You have no need for it now, after all. It should have been in our possession a year ago really, but I am nothing if not lenient.”

Her heart sinks. She had hoped that it wouldn’t have had to come to this.

The Agarthans had collected all of their weapons after the war, save for one. It was currently locked in a heavily guarded and fortified vault located at the lowest level of the Imperial palace. Edelgard did not know how they would put it to use; they had no one who could wield Aymr or the Relics. The whole situation still made her extremely uneasy.

“As you wish. Notify me when and where you want it delivered,” she acknowledged, trying her best to hide her dismay.

“Excellent. I will send a messenger when the time comes.”

“I would like to ask you something in turn.”

“Speak.”

“Why are you helping the rebels up north? I have received intelligence that you are supplying the rebellion in Fraldarius territory with crates of some sort. There have also been disappearances around the area. What is the meaning of this?”

“Ah, yes, of course. The answer is simple: we are helping you.”

“Excuse me? That does not look like like help, that looks like fomenting a rebellion.”

“No need to get snippety with me, girl. We are placing our own agents within the rebellion so that we can control it from within. In the meantime, we are supplying them in order to maintain appearances as allies. If the situation arises, we will crush the rebellion before it spreads to other territories. We have everything under control,” Thales drawls. His voice is as placid as the surface of a lake, soothing even, but there was always some threat lurking around in its depths.

Edelgard grits her teeth. She should have known. This was but another axe to hang over her head in order to keep her in line. First the javelins of light, and now this.

“As for the disappearances, we have need of new test subjects,” Thales continues on in a tone one would use when discussing the weather. “A few rebels began to pry into our affairs, so we took care of them.”

Her face blanches in horror, unable to keep the mask on any longer.

The Agarthan gives her a curious look. “Is this not what you want? These are dissidents that must be put down, yes?”

“No! They are still citizens of my empire, regardless of the issues that they may have with my authority.”

Thales shrugs. “Well, it cannot be helped now. It would do you well to be grateful for this favor, Flame Emperor. I am not usually this giving with humans. I do not deny that you have been a great help in getting rid of Seiros and her followers but do not forget your place.”

He stands up and walks towards her. Edelgard involuntarily takes a step back.

“Now that you are giving up your crown, I suppose this is to be the end of our fruitful alliance. I wish you all the best in your endeavors. But do remember this: we are always watching from the shadows.” The violet eyes of her once-uncle glimmer in the afternoon light as he smiles and extends a hand towards her.

Edelgard eyes his offered hand. Was this some sort of trick? If she shook his hand would she somehow be poisoned? Would he put some sort of tracking spell on her? Would-

Thales chuckles and makes a snort of derision. “Like frightened mice. This is a custom among your kind, is it not?”

“I- yes.” She takes his hand and shakes it with less force than she would’ve liked. His skin is as cold as ice. Edelgard wants nothing more than to set it on fire and watch him burn.

“Goodbye, Edelgard von Hresvelg,” Thales says. “May we never meet again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof this chapter was a long one. I was thinking about splitting it in half but I thought it would be better for the story if it was just one chapter.
> 
> Thank you for all the comments on the story and the art guys! They are very much appreciated. I have to admit though, I wish I could get more comments regarding the writing rather than the art cuz I can evaluate my art for mistakes a lot better than I can with my writing. If there’s anything I can improve on the writing, feel free to drop a comment.
> 
> 3 drawings this chapter since it’s a twice as long as the others. Been trying to get myself to do more backgrounds cuz i need more practice in it. I also bought a paper pack recently and dammit am I gonna put it to use.


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